Play On
by aptasi
Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.
1. Bridgette

Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: There is violence, heavily implied sexual content, weapons, drug content, alcohol, and abuse of power in this work of fiction, and not of the cartoon variety. The characters as portrayed here are neither invincible nor morally flawless. If you read Endgame, you have some clue what I'm capable of writing here. If you haven't read Endgame, I suggest you read it first. However, if you are too young or attached to "beloved childhood" versions of the characters… you've been warned.

* * *

"_Here." Carmen said quietly, as she turned her back and crossed her wrists behind her. _

_Seeing the other agent watching him, Zack had no choice but to cuff his once-adversary, whispering "What are you doing, Carmen?"_

"_I…" The thief replied, her eyes hollow. "I just killed someone."

* * *

_

_49 Hours Earlier. Virginia Beach, United States of America_

"Give it up, Carmen!" Ivy shouted, reflecting, not for the first time, that she really needed some new taunts.

"Not a chance, detective!" Carmen responded, perhaps considering the same thing.

They were in Virginia Beach. Carmen had stolen salt-water taffy… a lot of salt-water taffy, as in tons of the stuff.

Zack shook his head. They were working the case with the help of a local agent, Ray Sting, but he had not arrived yet, much to the siblings chagrin.

The game had felt heavy lately, despite everyone's best efforts. Though they had left the implications of the incident mostly in abeyance, the detectives couldn't help but find the chase more difficult. It would have been nice to have someone along who actually believed in what they were doing.

Never the less, they had Carmen backed onto the beach, against the tumultuous surf. There were protocols to be followed, lines to be recited.

Carmen took a few deliberate steps back into the damp sand, her hands reaching for something in her upper pockets, as waves began to lap around her stiletto-clad ankles.

"She's going to get away, Ivy!" Zack yelled, recognizing the object Carmen withdrew as one of her personal portable helicopter models.

As Ivy accelerated her steps, as Carmen quickly assembled the machinery.

"Started without me, did you?" A confident male voice with a difficult to place accent announced.

Both detectives and Carmen turned their heads to observe the new arrival. The detective seemed a bit old to be an ACME employee, by about thirty years, but then there wasn't exactly a maximum age. His stern black hair was streaked with gray, and his burly figure was muscled in sharp lines.

"Ray Sting?" Zack asked. "You're late."

Ivy didn't even slow down or look back. No tardy backup was going to interfere with her pacing.

Carmen was a different story. She, for lack of any better term, froze. Her device falling from nervous hands, she stared at the agent, with her mouth ajar.

Ivy not noticing the change, reached for Carmen's arms, but that the first touch of her hand, Carmen lost her mind.

Pulling them both down into the surf, Carmen grabbed Ivy's hair and, as a wave crashed over them, crushed them both to the ground.

Zack let out a yell and started running into the water, when he saw the ocean foam turn red.

* * *

**Player: What's going on, Carmen? You went wild back there. **

**Carmen: I didn't mean to, Player. **

**Player: That's almost an apology, Carmen. Now I know something must be wrong.**

**Carmen: Apologize to Ivy for me, Player. **

**Player: But why did you… Carmen? Carmen? Come on, this is really getting annoying!

* * *

**

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Bridgette asked, taking the sea-soaked coat from her employer.

"What?" Carmen responded dully, her eyes elsewhere, dragging a hand through her damp hair.

The secretary turned, putting her hands on her hips. "I'll rephrase. Are you going to tell me, Boss" she put a little extra emphasis on Carmen's title. "How you ending up wrestling that detective instead of flying away into the sunset?"

"No." Her boss replied, in the same non-tone.

"Are you in any pain?" These one-word answers were starting to grate on Bridgette's nerves.

"No."

"Liar." Normally Bridgette would just let her employer stagger back to her room and go through whatever bizarre post-heist ritual she normally used to exorcise her demons. The blond was hardly one to judge someone for preferring to keep pain to herself. However, she was not in the mood today.

"I twisted my ankle." Carmen deadpanned.

"Of course you did." Bridgette answered, still annoyed. She sighed. "Sit down."

The thief fell into her chair, behind her grandiose desk. "Fine. If it bothers you so much you may go ahead and wrap it up."

"Yes, Boss." The secretary grabbed some ice from the mini fridge under her desk, and then dropped to one knee.

Carmen watched Bridgette work for a moment, and shook her head. "I think I hurt her."

That took Bridgette a little aback. Carmen made mistakes, in spades, but, as a rule, she did not admit to any of them. "The detective you mean? I err… I hacked the system to check." That was another skill Carmen had taught her. "You broke her nose. Probably bled a lot, but she'll be alright."

The blond stood up and poured her senior a glass of water.

"I knew you'd want to know that." Bridgette said pushing the glass across the desk, "Just like I know that physical pain is the least of your worries today."

Carmen took a sip. "What would I do without you?" She asked, half-sarcastic.

"Wrap your own ankle?" Bridgette suggested with a smile. "Wear flats?" The lackey laughed a little, "You'd find some other scared kid to rescue. It's your nature. You collect strays the way most people think you collect landmarks."

Carmen took a bitter swig of the water with mannerisms that would have had Bridgette thinking the drink was alcohol, if she hadn't poured the stuff herself.

Bridgette mused, "I had a sister like you, once."

She had, actually. Except that Morgan's addiction was to alcohol, not thievery. It had taught Bridgette the drill though. She knew that nothing could stop Carmen from returning to crime. Morgan had promised at least twenty times that she would stay away from liquor. Bridgette had believed her big sister every time.

"What happened to her?" Carmen asked.

"She hit a tree, going 130 kilometers per hour, drunk out of her mind." The secretary answered shortly, giving Carmen a compendium to her heartbreak.

Bridgette had learned you don't stop caring about someone just because she broke your heart a half dozen times. It got so you could predict when you were about it to be hurt, didn't mean you could do anything about it. Just protect them as assiduously as you could, then clean up when you inevitably failed. Loyalty was a brainless emotion.

"Oh." Carmen said quietly.

"You know the rest of the story. Not hard to guess what happened between then and when you pulled me off that street corner." Oh yes, fidelity was utterly inane. Except, of course, that Carmen had earned it. Not many people picked streetwalkers for random, nonjudgmental acts of kindness, let alone as their secretaries.

"You were too young to be there." Carmen explained.

"I was older than you were when you left ACME." Bridgette noticed.

Carmen, hearing that remark, glared. "Well, _you_ looked frightened."

Bridgette knew Carmen thought she was being hopelessly naïve, but it was almost impossible not to believe the best of someone who saved you on a whim like that. What's more, it was even more difficult not to feel cheerful when one was having the first decent conversation with that person in months.

Bridgette cogitated for a second. Maybe faith was her addiction. Seemed like everyone she met had one. Why shouldn't she?

The door banged open. "Did you miss me?" The silhouette said, from the archway.

Whoever it was, Bridgette didn't recognize him. That didn't mean anything though. Carmen kept company with whomever she pleased. A great deal more disturbing was the look of abject terror on her boss's face.

The secretary put on her courtesy face. "Excuse me. I don't remember making an appointment for you, Mr…?"

"Moskvani." He said arrogantly, "And I don't need an appointment. Do I, Carmen?"

Carmen's voice was numb with fear. "Bridgette, do as he says."

"Yes," Mr. Moskvani said, with a dark twinkle in his eyes. "Leave us alone." He walked behind Carmen's chair and, reaching over the back, started running his hands familiarly over her shoulders and neck.

Most days, Bridgette wouldn't even dream of disobeying her boss. However, years of working a desk hadn't done anything to dull the instincts she'd learned working the streets. "I'm not going anywhere." She said protectively because she couldn't stand the look of pained endurance in her idol's eyes.

"You've trained her poorly," The intruder commented.

"Please Bridgette, just do as he says…" Carmen whispered, looking close to tears, as the trespasser smiled sardonically.

Dedication really was an idiotic concept. Keeping quiet, or better yet getting out of this room would have been far cleverer. "Carmen, it's going to be alright." Bridgette said, though she knew no such thing.

The man laughed. "She's useless." He commented, his right arm moving under his jacket.

"Nicholas, no!" Bridgette heard Carmen shriek.

Aside from the gunshot, it was the last thing she ever heard.


	2. Your Choice

Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: There is violence, heavily implied sexual content, weapons, drug content, alcohol, and abuse of power in this work of fiction, and not of the cartoon variety. The characters as portrayed here are neither invincible nor morally flawless. If you read Endgame, you have some clue what I'm capable of writing here. If you haven't read Endgame, I suggest you read it first. However, if you are too young or attached to "beloved childhood" versions of the characters… you've been warned.

* * *

"_Nicholas, no!" Bridgette heard Carmen shriek. _

_Aside from the gunshot, it was the last thing she ever heard.

* * *

_

_Acme Headquarters, San Francisco USA_

"What was that all about?" Zack asked.

Ivy made an indistinguishably sound in her throat.

"Sorry sis?"

Annoyed, Ivy pulled the gauze from her nose and readjusted her icepack. "I don't know!" The redhead shifted her weight irritably. "It was really weird."

"Have you ever seen her act like that?" Zack continued pacing. "I mean she… she…"

"Panicked." Ivy supplied. "Yeah… that was weird."

"Carmen's been acting off for weeks now." Zack said, shaking his head nervously.

"Ever since she…." Ivy trailed off, fidgeting "You know."

Zack hopped anxiously from foot to foot, thinking that Carmen had not been the only one feeling uncomfortable recently. They had all had some issues with readjusting.

"Her choice in heists has been…." Ivy moved the ice pack once more.

"Fluffy…" Chief inserted, supplying an adjective, "She's been stealing candy, love poems, fields of wildflowers. I mean half the stuff she's gone after in the last month has been pink! Not exactly her usual aesthetic."

"Like one great big 'leave me alone, detectives. I'm fine,'" Ivy muttered, wincing.

"Or a not too subtle attempt at self-comfort." Zack suggested sadly. "We really should cut her some slack on this one sis."

"Well," Ivy said in exasperation, "You weren't the one who had to swallow half a ton of seawater while grappling Carmen under the ocean." Ivy bit her lip. "I mean it was completely erratic. I don't even think she was looking where she hit. And she was pulling me under rather than trying to escape."

"Carmen just went completely insane when she…" Zack trailed off.

"When she saw that new agent." Ivy finished, raising her eyebrows significantly.

* * *

_VILE Headquarters, Location Unknown_

"You're beautiful." Nicolas said, addressing the woman stretched out next to him on the bed.

"I know," his lover answered, stretching a little provocatively.

Nicolas was no fool. He could tell Carmen was not relaxed, no more than she had been ten years ago.

She was afraid of him, and he was proud of that. Fear, in the right doses, was even better than respect.

He considered himself a connoisseur of terror, and Carmen's was distilled and exquisite.

The last time, for reasons still known only to the red thief, she had wanted that vial of smallpox. Enough, he knew cynically, to give him just about anything. This time, she understood enough about what he was capable of to keep up the fiction.

Nicolas saw straight through the act, and her desperation excited a sort of beneficent sympathy in him. Emotions really were a confusing thing. Was this some twisted captor's version of Stockholm syndrome?

"Your bedroom is like a bloody dungeon cell." He complained petulantly, gesturing around the austere surroundings.

"Sorry," Carmen muttered complaisantly, her voice hanging numb as a funeral dirge.

The slight readjustment of her shoulders diverged his attention to the scars marring her arms.

"Who did this to you, Милая моя?" He asked, stroking Carmen's hair to comfort her.

"Did what?" She stammered, shivering.

"You're scarred, моя любовь." Nicholas whispered against her neck.

"I…" Her mouth set in something resembling spirit. "I did that myself. It was practice. To increase my pain tolerance."

Nicolas looked at Carmen for a moment, and then burst into incredible laughter. "You…" He chortled, "Are even more depraved than I thought. You're perfect…"

Well, almost perfect.

Arms dealers, gangsters, and murderers were not exempt from the need for human contact. Nicolas, though he considered it a weakness, wanted someone warm and loving to come home to at the end of the day.

To have that person be a partner, an asset, was almost too good to be true. He had thought of little else from the day of his conviction to his parole that morning.

However, family, of necessity, demanded absolute loyalty.

"… but you're disloyal."

"If you believed that…" Carmen began, her fear clearly escalating. "I'd be dead."

"If I thought you'd betrayed me," He corrected conversationally, "You'd be begging me to let you die."

Her breathing steadied out, and Nicolas rubbed her back affectionately, as her famous self-control kicked in and her fear abated.

"My first few weeks in that prison," He narrated calmly, "I was sure you were an undercover cop."

"Me?" Carmen almost choked.

"An amusing notion, isn't it? Then, my trial rolls around and they have me on next to nothing. Your testimony, Милая моя, could have put me there for life, were you truly one of those agents. So I wait…"

He frowned, remembering his annoyance.

"And nothing… to help or to hurt me. You, my devious darling, take care of only yourself."

Carmen swallowed, as his grip turned cruel.

"Who have you been with, Carmen, while I rotted in prison?"

"No one…" Carmen gasped, as his insinuation catalyzed her terror, "No one important. I did not want anyone else. I swear I…."

"Shhh" Nicolas said gently, placing a finger against her crimson lips. "I checked. You've haven't grown attached to anyone in the last ten years."

Carmen nodded, clearly trying to fight down panic another time.

"Except for those detectives."

The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees Celsius.

"That's absurd." Carmen said sternly, and Nicolas could almost believe her.

"Really?" He asks darkly. "That is good, Carmen." He took his handgun from the nightstand and held it against her head.

He liked to do that, just to watch her face. His two favorite things, his woman and his gun, made a pretty picture.

"It's good," He continued, "That you don't like them because one of them has to die."

Carmen's breath caught. "No…" She begged, so despairingly that she almost seemed to forget about the firearm pointed at her brain. She was so careless that she nearly knocked it out of his hand.

"I'm merciful, you see." He nuzzled her temple gently with the weapon, to remind her of its presence. "I will let one detective live. You can even choose which, Милая моя."

Carmen shook her head forcefully.

"Do you doubt that I can do it? I've killed two Acme agents already. And I believe you met our old friend down at the beach."

"I saw him… "

"Perfectly placed to do the job. Or do you think I'm joking."

"No." She choked out.

"Good. Because I mean it, Carmen."

Nicolas did not believe for a second that she actually cared a whit for those detectives.

"Please…" Carmen pleaded, tears running down her face.

Her nonviolence was her crutch. As long as she and the police mutually clung to this absurd notion that no one would get hurt, she bought safety at the price of half her potential. It was almost clever, but of no use to him. Nicolas preferred a more direct route.

"Choose quickly, darling, and we'll keep it to the one. Else I'll make you watch how long they both scream."

Sobs racked Carmen's slender frame, but no words escaped her lips.

Holding onto the gun, he struck her forehead with the weapon. Nicholas didn't put his whole arm into the blow, just enough to remind her. Her head rolled back a little, but it didn't stop her tears.

"Zack." She finally gasped out. "Spare Zack. If you have to kill one of them, kill Ivy. But please…. please…. "

Nicolas grinned. It wasn't really a choice. She'd avoided the personal decision by choosing the older, more responsible one to die. Clever of her… Though he'd always thought she empathised more with the redhead girl than the geeky boy. Or maybe it was because she liked Ivy better that she had chosen her...

That didn't matter. Once this was done, she'd be his to her death. She'd have no other choice.

"Oh, you misunderstand me darling. I won't be murdering the detective. You will. And I'd do it quickly, if you want her to die cleanly."

Nicholas wound his arms around the horrified woman and started kissing Carmen's neck and unlacing her nightgown as she wept.


	3. Running

Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: There is violence, heavily implied sexual content, weapons, drug content, alcohol, and abuse of power in this work of fiction, and not of the cartoon variety. The characters as portrayed here are neither invincible nor morally flawless. If you read Endgame, you have some clue what I'm capable of writing here. If you haven't read Endgame, I suggest you read it first. However, if you are too young or attached to "beloved childhood" versions of the characters… you've been warned.

* * *

"_Oh, you misunderstand me darling. I won't be murdering the detective. You will. And I'd do it quickly, if you want her to die cleanly." _

_Nicholas wound his arms around the horrified woman and started kissing Carmen's neck and unlacing her nightgown as she wept.

* * *

_

_Acme Headquarters, San Francisco. _

Ivy was alone in the headquarters, eating her dinner in front of the screens, when she heard a low noise, as all of the monitors clicked off.

Jumping up, the detective assumed a defensive stance. "Who's there?" She shouted. "Show yourself."

No one appeared. Only, for the briefest fraction of a second, a number flashed across all of the screens.

Slowly, deliberately Ivy disposed of the remainder of her Chinese takeout. Then, she walked to the rest rooms, checked all of the other stalls, and, leaning against the sink to watch the doors, turned her communicator to the specified frequency.

"You know, I should be furious at you right now." She hissed to the device, touching her distended nose. "I'm still hurting from that last stunt of yours."

"I'm sorry, detective." Carmen said with concern.

The apology got Ivy's attention. "What's this about, Carmen?"

"Do you trust me?" The thief asked bluntly.

Ivy considered the anomalous question. "Yeah…" She finally admitted, though she disliked her answer. "I do. How messed up is that?"

Ivy heard a sigh of what sounded like relief from the other side of the line.

"Go into the café across the street. Sit at the farthest north seat and look inside the menu. Follow the instructions and tell no one. Not even your brother."

Ivy frowned. "If I didn't know better, Carmen…."

"If you have any faith in me at all…" Carmen cajoled. "Please… please do this for me."

"Alright" Ivy answered. "I trust you."

The communication device winked out.

"But if you're lying this time, that's the last I ever will."

* * *

_Big Bend National Park, Texas_

Archie didn't like the situation one bit. It wasn't as if he hadn't driven backup for Carmen before. Being caught was a common reality in his line of work, and it was comforting to know that Carmen always broke her loyal helpers out of jail before anything too dramatic could happen to them. He remembered one time, when Carmen hadn't liked the looks of the Mexican prison he was in, she'd had him out in one hour flat.

He knew the rules. Do what you're told, do it with alacrity, and stay out of the boss's way. However, tonight, whatever remained of his primitive instincts were warning him that this was different.

This wasn't her usual capricious and antic heist. There was something more disturbing to tonight's aberrations.

Carmen had been different, darker, since she had taken up with this strange new lover. It didn't make sense and it wasn't in her history. And things he could not link to the past made Archie Ology very nervous.

"There's a yellow station wagon in the northernmost parking lot." Carmen instructed in a low tone, pointing in the direction of the appropriated vehicle. "Observe the speed limits. You really won't want to be caught today."

"You want some backup?" The minion offered.

"No." She instructed in a tone that seemed angry. "Drop me off, then get out of here fast. If they catch you, say you had no idea what I was going to do."

"That would be the truth." Archie commented.

Carmen did not offer any information.

"What are you going to do?" This wasn't her usual antic heist.

"You don't want to know." There was that dark tone again. "Under the law, you're already as culpable as I am…"

Was that something new? 'It's Ok. I'm used to it."

"Just hide quickly and lie low until you hear otherwise. I should have driven myself and but…"

She held one black-gloved hand out in front of her. It was shaking.

That was weird. Archie knew he was not imagining things now. He had once seen Carmen run a six-minute mile alongside their vehicle in the Kalahari Desert and barely sweat, let alone shake. And that had been on sand, in heels.

"Adrenaline does some strange things." He justified. Remembering how much Carmen liked the rush, he could not agree with his own analysis. Not that it mattered because she did not seem to hear.

"Someone's on our tail…" Carmen apprised him, and Archie obligingly sped up as he noticed the C5 car in the rearview mirror.

Her hand moved to the door of their all terrain vehicle and threw it open.

Archie gripped the wheel with white knuckles as Carmen jumped from the moving truck, rolled a couple of times, and then found her feet and started to run.

The sidekick knew this was his cue to get out of there. Ivy seemed to be alone, so she would go for the greater prize. If he absconded now, he'd be safe.

However, something just did not feel right.

When Carmen ran, she _ran_. The way she sprinted, anyone would think she was descended from a cheetah, instead of that obnoxious executive she had apparently named her father.

For Carmen, this speed was _jogging_. Judging from the detective, rapidly closing the distance on foot, it was dangerously slow as well. He knew Carmen liked to push her luck on chases, but this was a lot, even for her.

So, Archie, despite his orders, stayed and watched. Glancing upwards, he spotted a hiking group on a tall rock formation a few feet away, who were starting to point and gasp. It did not matter. They were too highly placed to get down quickly, or at all really, except by another route.

Carmen pulled back to a walk, and then stood on the rocky banks of the Rio Grande, her back to the opaque, muddy water. Why was she taking off her belt?

"Good day for a chase, Carmen?" Ivy asked brashly. "Nice weather." She launched forward to tackle the thief.

"A good day to die, detective." Carmen answered.

Then, Carmen's belt somehow got around Ivy's neck, and what remained of Archie's sense of logic exploded.

They were struggling. Carmen behind the detective, pulling the belt tight.

Ivy lost consciousness, and Carmen shifted her footing to take the weight without removing the belt. The detective's face was turned towards the water.

"One!" Carmen shouted and the echoes reverberated through the park.

"Two!" The next count came a moment later.

"Three!" The belt was still tight.

Frozen, Archie watched as the numbers climbed and some of the bystanders started to scream. He looked at his boss and saw her face… choked in tears… burning with anguish… radiating insanity.

"Five hundred!" Carmen growled, and her voice choked off into a sob. With one hand, she tenderly touched the side of the detectives face for the briefest of moments. "Done!"

In an explosive flash of red, Carmen pitched Ivy into the river.

Archie was fixated, memorized. The red movement of cloth seemed to linger longer across his eyes, some macabre version of slow motion.

Carmen stared at the river for a few seconds, breathing in starts and gasps, and then spun, kicked off her heels, and starting running.

This time, she was running for real.


	4. Code

_Carmen stared at the river for a few seconds, breathing in starts and gasps, and then spun, kicked off her heels, and starting running._

_This time, she was running for real.

* * *

_

**Player: I don't understand Carmen. **

**Carmen: You couldn't, player. **

**Player: It was supposed to be a game.**

**Carmen: … **

**Player: It was supposed to be a game!

* * *

**

_Police Station, San Francisco_

Zack was thoroughly enjoying his afternoon hanging out with some police officers at the local station. He had dropped off a low level criminal, one of his side cases, and was now relaxing and enjoying the conversation and the free donuts. He reveled in the fact that Ivy was not there to limit his sugar intake.

Through the gate into the waiting area, Zack noticed one of the officers talking with a brunette woman, dressed in fitted black sweats.

"Can I help you miss?" Zack's colleague asked.

"You look kind of familiar…" Zack began, trying to place their visitor, who was staring at the ground.

"I'm done." The woman stated contritely, looking him in the eyes and raising both her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Carmen!"

"Here." Carmen contended, as she turned her back and crossed her wrists behind her.

Seeing the other officers watching him, Zack had no choice but to cuff his once-adversary, whispering "What are you doing, Carmen?

"I…" The thief replied, her eyes hollow . "I just killed someone."

"Who?" Zack asked as the handcuffs clicked closed. "Carmen, who?"

Their eyes met. "Your sister."

* * *

_Acme Headquarters, San Francisco_

"Just tell me why, Carmen." Zack begged.

"Because I could." Carmen answered, in a husky voice. "Because I wanted to." She leaned in across the table between them, "Because I hated her." She tapped her right fingers rhythmically against her thigh.

Zack's didn't even consider the suggestion. "We both know you didn't hate Ivy."

"She made my life a misery." The same sequence of taps.

"You're not miserable." He countered, and Carmen blinked in surprise, as that reaction had never occurred to her.

"She was in my way." Carmen moved her fingers through the same sequence.

What's up with these blasted taps? They're in the same pattern, on the side of her body facing away from the camera, and far too long a sequence to be accidental.

"I dare you…" He growled, praying that she would take the hint. "Say that again."

"She" Carmen leaned until their faces nearly touched. "Was in my way."

-.. .- -.-. -.-

_ZACK_

Morse code…

He circled the table, and grabbed her shoulder roughly.

He tapped. .- ... .- - ..-.. On her arm, also out of the camera's view.

_What?_

_.. ...- -.- / .- .-.. .. ...- . _ Carmen typed.

_Ivy Alive _

"Shut up!" His heart rose instantly. .- ... -.- / - ... . / -.-. ... .- .-. .- -.. . / ..-..

_Why the charade ?_

-. .. -.-. ... - .-.. .- ... / -... .- -.-. -.- / ... .. - / - .- -. / .. -. / .- -.-. - . / - .-. ..- ... - / -. - / - -. .

_Nicholas Back Hit Man in Acme Trust No One_

Zack can't force himself to believe her, but, even through his current fury, to just ignore her missive is unthinkable.

"Over a dozen people saw you strangle her. In broad daylight." He growled, pushing hard against her shoulder and starting to cry again.

"I know." Carmen answered aloud.

Zack's anger made the act easy… That was if he could tell which of these coded realities the truth was. Ivy couldn't be alive, he tells himself. He has to force the thought because even if Carmen was a murderer, he found it difficult to hate her, or even to pretend it convincingly.

_.-.. .. .- .-._

_Liar _

_.-. .-.. . .- ... ._ She begs, though her face remains cruel.

_Please_

"You killed my sister." He told Carmen disingenuously, for the benefit of the cameras. "And I hope they execute you for that."

.-. .-. - ...- . / .. - He sends.

_Prove it_

"So do I. I deserve it." .. / .- .. .-.. .-.. / ... - - -.

_I will soon. _

He tried with all his might to feel angry. "You deserve far worse." -. - / .-. .-. - - ..-. ..-.. / .- ... -.- / - ..- .-. -. / -.- - ..- .-. ... . .-.. ..-. / .. -. ..-..

_No proof? Why turn yourself in?_

She lowers her voice until it's husky and intimate. "Agreed." ..-. .. -. ..- .-. . -.. / -.- - ..- / .- - ..- .-.. -.. -. .-. - / ... ... - - - / - . .-.-.- / - - ... . .-. / .-. - .-.. .. -.-. . / - .. -. ... - .-.-.-

_Figured you wouldn't shoot me. Other police might. _

This act is absolutely killing him, so he moderates his incensed words with a lighter coded remark. "I hate you." ... .- ..-. . / -... . - / ... .. -. -.-. . / .. / -.. - -. .-. - / ... .- ...- . / .- / -. ..- -.

_Safe bet since I don't have a gun. _

Carmen flinched all too convincingly at his spoken statement, causing the knot in Zack's stomach to tighten.

This façade was so difficult to keep up. "I hate you!" He shouted because he couldn't think of anything more to say. .- ... .- - / ... ... - ..- .-.. -.. / .. / -.. - ..-..

_What should I do?_

She turns her head to face his, and smiles like a demon. "Good." .- ..- ... - / .-. .-.. .- -.- / .- .-.. - -. -.

_Just play along

* * *

_

Chief was miserable.

His programming, his very nature, was designed to be ebullient, erratic, and open, filled with tidbits of interesting, if not particularly relevant information. It made for a fun chase, dotted with trivia and important insights.

The upshot of this algorithm was the Chief was unable to stop the flow of information, helpless to do anything but process and randomize every possibility, like an erratic random motion simulation, disseminating every possible scenario across his mind.

Most of the time, Chief enjoyed this giddy and slightly crazy sensation, the uncontrollable flow of eclectic information from Crimenet, the internet, and any number of other sources.

However, there were some times, some horrible days, when Chief simply couldn't … couldn't process any more.

He wanted to shut off the research, to stop running figures, but he couldn't.

Ivy was dead. Carmen strangled her.

_Ligature strangulation: Strangulation without suspension with a cord or similar object_

Carmen used her belt… the one that tied together her trench coat.

_Determining strangulation in homicide…_

Pictures of victims, with distinctive bruising patterns around their necks, with tips on matching the patterns to a weapon floated through his consciousness. His programs automatically superimpose the markings onto a picture of Ivy.

_Cause of death in victims is cerebral hypoxia _

Ivy's brain would have been starved of oxygen, Chief realized.

_Victims may sometimes be revived. _

Carmen had left no chance of that. She had counted to five hundred with the belt still tight… slowly… to ensure Ivy was dead, and then thrown her in the river. The detective's body still hadn't been recovered.

_Rio Grande forms part of the border between Texas and Mexico. _

Carmen had stood on the Texas side, in front of a tour group full of witnesses. Texas… why did it have to be Texas.

_Since the Death Penalty was reinstated, Texas has executed more inmates than any other state._

In that aspect, it was even worse than Mexico.

_Capital Murder in Texas includes murder of a public safety official. _

A public safety official like Ivy. Ivy, the vivacious, high tempered, brilliant, kind, martial artist who would never tease her brother, beat him at trivia, or solve a clue again.

_Executions in Texas are carried out by lethal injection…_

Frantically, Chief tried to stop the line of reasoning, to derail on any other type of thought, any excuse to keep him from trying to calculate, all things considered, exactly what sort of chance Carmen had. Maybe the chance was good, but if it wasn't….

…_using a drug sequence of sodium pentothal, followed by pancuronium bromide and concluding with potassium chloride to stop the heart._

An image of a bed, white and sterile with straps came to his mind unbidden, forced into his consciousness by his own automatic internet searches.

Chief could not take it.

It's just his coding, he told himself. His over imaginative algorithms were getting him upset about something that probably wouldn't happen. Carmen would live… unlike Ivy…

Probably...

Chief tried to tell himself she would escape, but he could not believe she would. Images of Ivy and Carmen warred with each other in his circuits, begging the question of whether he wanted Carmen to succeed.

Carmen and Ivy were his angels, his best girls. Now one had murdered the other and both might die.

And even if they didn't kill her…

To be locked in a box, for the rest of her life, subject to the whims of bureaucracy, dependent on the government for so much as a toothbrush.

Carmen was a magnificent, enigmatic creature… too proud and too free to contain.

Chief had wanted to save her, to persuade her, to spare her harm.

He had never wanted to restrain her, hemming her in until red faded to despondent grey.

Chief knew that made him unfit for his post. The very thing he was programmed to do, he now found repulsive.

Even knowing what she'd done.

Even knowing whom she'd done it too.

The data amalgamated, and Chief reached a conclusion.

Spinning into infinite loops, his program failed… disregarding the usual parameters…spinning into internal anarchy… denigrating the fiber of his being…becoming a dissolution of himself.

He could not calculate or justify what he did next.

Chief opened a C5 corridor into Carmen's cell, letting off in a crowded section of a random city.

The thief, now the murderer, looked at him in shock.

"Run." He said, as his circuits and algorithms misfired simultaneously, painfully.

"Chief I…" Carmen began in an utterly broken tone.

"Run!" He screamed, with anguish so real he knew it must be human.

She ran.


	5. Esmeralda, tu sais

Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: There is violence, heavily implied sexual content, weapons, drug content, alcohol, and abuse of power in this work of fiction, and not of the cartoon variety. The characters as portrayed here are neither invincible nor morally flawless. If you read Endgame, you have some clue what I'm capable of writing here. If you haven't read Endgame, I suggest you read it first. However, if you are too young or attached to "beloved childhood" versions of the characters… you've been warned.

* * *

"_Chief I…" Carmen began in an utterly broken tone. _

"_Run!" He screamed, with anguish so real he knew it must be human. _

_She ran.

* * *

_

_VILE Headquarters, location unknown_

Nicolas was ecstatic.

By all accounts, Carmen was devastated, but knowing that the meddling detective was dead was a darkly incredible feeling. Nicolas reveled in the power he had, to force his lover to murder her closest enemy.

"You were fabulous, Carmen." His dissonantly accented voice commented.

"It was horrible." Carmen whispered. "When Ivy went limp like that I just…" The muscles in her red clad shoulders rippled as she sobbed.

The arms dealer was also fascinated with the method Carmen had chosen. True, it wouldn't have been his choice. Nicholas preferred his sig, or maybe a knife, for his jobs. Strangulation, especially with her own belt, was so immensely personal. Counting down like that had been immeasurably nervy. He felt a twisted pride.

"It'll be easier the next time." He offered soothingly, kissing her perfectly manicured hand like a gentleman from a Jane Austin book.

She shuddered. "I hope not. I am never… never doing that again, Nicolas."

The arms dealer shrugged. He knew, of course, that she would have no choice but to do anything he wanted.

Nicolas put his arms around Carmen, but she twisted angrily out of his grasp. He wasn't annoyed. Let her be petulant for the moment.

"I want a shower," Carmen said firmly.

Natural enough, Nicholas concluded. He hadn't looked nearly this good after his first kill. "That sounds like a good idea." He said with a leer.

She trembled, but he pretended not to see.

"And then?" Nicholas asked, remembering that he'd been famished. As he recalled, his young self had consumed several steaks in succession and promptly vomited them up again.

"I…" She muttered. "I want to go to church."

Before he could stop himself, he laughed, a brash condescending sound. "Why? Religion is the opiate of the masses, after all." He quoted Marx.

"Because… I just do."

"Going to make another confession," He snickered.

Carmen looked up at him from deep eyes. "Nothing I say or do not do now is going to bring me any peace." She stated with hushed certainty. "But I… I just want to look at some stained glass windows for a while… listen to organ music. I've had stranger cravings."

"You won't find either of those around here." Nicholas deadpanned.

"Then I'll travel." Carmen countered.

"In high style I expect." The square jaw grinned. "Rome?"

"Paris." Carmen answered. "The plane ride will give me some time to reflect…"

Nicolas mocked her. "If there was a God, he wouldn't listen to you."

Carmen changed her red coat for a similar black one. "God even talked with Satan, Nicholas." She called over her shoulder. "Read the book of Job."

* * *

_Notre Dame de Paris, __Paris, France_

There were hundreds of tourists in the building, and Ivy scanned their faces, praying she'd gotten this part of the instructions right. Then, she recognized Carmen. The thief was looking around with a half-frantic visage, scanning the crowd. Slowly, casually, Ivy approached.

"Hi," The detective began.

"Hi." Carmen said softly.

The silence stretched for a moment.

"So…uh… good caper." Ivy said awkwardly, extending her hand.

Carmen took the hand in a tight shake, and then suddenly pulled Ivy into a hug. Ivy was shocked that she could feel the master thief shaking through her coat.

After a few ragged breaths, Carmen pulled back. "Sorry…" She whispered. "It's just I… I wasn't sure… It felt so real"

"You left me enough air…" Ivy apprised her. "So… uh…where does he think you are?"

"Here…" Carmen answered dryly "Praying for your soul."

"You're Catholic?" Ivy asked, a bit incredulous at the image.

"Not exactly," Carmen responded.

Ivy raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, so not remotely." Carmen clarified. "I have a bit of trouble with the eight commandment, detective, in case you haven't noticed."

Ivy laughed quietly. "You don't usually steal from churches. I remember you lifted some statues from the Vatican once though."

"That's because it's usually no challenge to steal from churches. Especially those few of them that are actually as friendly as they claim. Breaking down a security system is fun, detective. Taking advantage of someone's trust, however misplaced, just makes me feel lousy. I found that out the hard way."

"Oh."

Carmen smirked, "The Vatican on the other hand, is a self-righteous pain in my neck. I'd steal the whole thing just to spite them, but I can't think of any use for it."

Ivy grinned. "Nicholas bought your story though?"

"I can be very convincing detective." Carmen leaned against a stone pillar and closed her eyes for a moment. "I almost believed myself. Then again, half paralyzed trauma isn't exactly an acting challenge, given the circumstances."

"Oh… Nice clue, by the way. I almost didn't get it." Ivy turned a piece of paper in her hand, watching the ink run through the parchment from where it had followed her into the river.

With a sharp movement, Carmen seized her wrist. "I thought you'd know to burn that." She hissed, crumpling the paper and stuffing it into her pocket, as if the words were more dangerous than the deeds.

Ivy smiled "Nicolas is back. Play along. Follow me to the river and then try to close the distance." She quoted.

Carmen pressed her lips together irritably and placed her hands onto her hips.

"I'll leave you air." Ivy continued. "Play dead, and tap out discretely if you need more slack. When you hear 'done,' get ready to hit the water. Air tank 10 meters down. Get as far upriver as you can before you get out. If you're as good as you look, you can make it a few miles. Don't be seen. Don't leave a trail."

Carmen nodded, "You were very convincing. A true masterwork of chicanery, detective."

"Thanks," Ivy replied. "I thought that fancy knot you did with your belt to make it look tight was pretty good too."

Carmen shook her head halfheartedly. "Thank you."

Ivy returned to the note. "I'll meet you in a safe place." Ivy finished. "Now that's about as vague as a clue can get…"

A slight smile, "Except that I signed it, detective."

"Chopin Trouillefou." Ivy said with a grin, "The king of thieves. Sounds like Nicholas doesn't read Victor Hugo."

"He's more an Alexander Pushkin type." Carmen clarified, with her arms crossed, "When he reads at all."

"And that makes Notre Dame de Paris," Ivy concluded, "Your safe place… or sanctuary."

"Très bien, Ivy." Carmen lauded.

"Because it's where Esmeralda hid from arrest."

"Very apropos, don't you think detective." Carmen. "Here's your disguise." She added, handing Ivy a small bag. "Make sure you bleach your hair evenly. Your name's June Bug. You're my new secretary, so I hope your typing speed is up to par."

Ivy looked at the items, which included a pair of heavy rimmed glasses and colored contact lenses, and winced. "You remember that Notre Dame de Paris ended badly, don't you Carmen?"

"Don't worry, Esmeralda." Carmen said and winked.

Ivy wished she could feel half that confidence. "Where are we going?" She asked.

"Why, the Court of Miracles, of course."


	6. Anarkia

_Ivy wished she could feel half that confidence. "Where are we going?" She asked._

"_Why, the Court of Miracles, of course."

* * *

_

_Vile Headquarters, Location Unknown_

"Why is there a bloodstain on your carpet?" Ivy asked.

Carmen bowed her head. "Bridgette, your predecessor, got on Nicholas' bad side."

"Oh," Ivy muttered. "I…"

Quickly, Carmen made a hushing gesture with her hands. She abruptly reached into her desk and took what appeared to be a shiny black paperweight. The thief rubbed her thumb along the edge and then looked around the room sharply, searching the underside of the desk, the edges of the windows, the sides of the mini-fridge, and then the bookshelf. Frowning Carmen took a small electronic device from the backside of a poetry anthology.

"Carmen what…?"

The thief made another hasty silencing movement, and took a small screwdriver from one of her pockets.

Ivy watched Carmen rewire the apparatus and then return it to its former place.

"It's a bug." Carmen said softly. "I've rewired it to a continuous loop of background noise. Now we can talk."

"Who bugged us?"

"Probably Nicholas, but it could be just about anyone."

Ivy winked "You make a lot of friends. So," she looked around. "The Court of Miracles, huh?"

"If you insist…" Carmen muttered. Hastily grabbing a marker… she scrawled the word ANARKIA on a whiteboard above her desk. "How's that?"

Ivy looked at the reference hesitantly. "It seems a bit pessimistic."

Carmen gave herself a little shake. "Where are my manners, detective. Would you like anything to eat? I have…" Carmen checked the refrigerator. "Gatorade, energy bars, pita bread, hummus, saltines, ginger ale, and a protein shake."

The younger woman cast around for an answer. "Um, maybe pita bread with the hummus and some Gatorade."

Carmen brought the food out and arranged it on the center of her desk. From the top of the refrigerator, she took two goblets and filled them from a Gatorade bottle.

"Red Gatorade in wine glasses, Carmen?"

Carmen's lips curled up in a half smirk. "Eat your hummus, detective." She instructed, raising the glass in a mocking toast

With a slight return smile, Ivy sat in Carmen's chair and started eating.

The thief's desk was spartanly furnished, with a high tech computer system, a steno pad, and three picture frames.

"Where'd you get these?" Ivy asked.

Carmen's expression turned nostalgic as she touched the frames, sitting on the edge of the desk. "I took the photos of you and your brother when you infiltrated my training facility. The one of Chief is a screenshot from our Christmas chess game."

For a moment, the conversation lagged, as both women ate, Ivy ravenously, Carmen abstemiously.

"So," Ivy asked. "What's your plan now?"

"I don't have one." Carmen answered.

"Carmen you always have a plan!" Ivy nearly shouted.

"Ivy, calm down." Carmen said quickly.

"But you're the one who's supposed to know how to fix this!"

"Ok, Ok." Carmen held up her hands. "I just haven't got that far yet."

"Alright then" Ivy began, a little calmer. "How did Nicholas escape?"

"He was paroled." Carmen answered simply.

"Paroled!"

"He probably bought a judge." Carmen explained, helping herself to more hummus.

Ivy's mouth dropped opened.

"It happens." Carmen said, her worldly cynical words belying her expression of disgust.

"So you're telling me that if we catch him tomorrow…" Ivy started.

"You have nothing and he walks." Carmen finished. "He's been busy, but it's my word against his."

"And you're the one…" Ivy began.

"And I'm the one half of Texas saw trying to choke you to death." Carmen finished. "Even your brother, optimist though he is, had a little trouble with that bit."

"Then," Ivy reasoned, "We'd better start by gathering evidence."

"Nicholas loves to talk." Carmen analyzed. "I can get him to confess. I'm sure of it."

Ivy glowered, "A lot of good that does, unless we can get it on tape."

Carmen blinked. "Maybe we can detective." She went routing around in her desk drawers again. "Either way, at this stage of the game, the most important thing is to keep Nicholas happy."

"Keep him happy how?" Ivy asked, unsettled.

Carmen winced, "Ivy, you are far too innocent to be in this business."

"Carmen, you don't have to…" Ivy began, indignant.

"Yes, I do." Carmen interrupted, putting an arm on Ivy's shoulder. "The last time I even thought about refusing him, Nicholas shot my… my friend… in the head."

They both looked at the bloody floor for a moment.

"You're not doing this!" Ivy declared.

Carmen shrugged, shutting a desk drawer with a bit more force than strictly necessary. "It's just flesh, detective."

Hearing that statement, Ivy launched into a raging diatribe. "How can you say that?" She screamed, "Don't you have any respect for yourself at all? That man is evil!"

"Detective…"

"I can't believe you would even consider touching him. It's sick. I'll kill him. I don't care if you are on an op; there are some things you just don't allow. What is wrong with you?" Ivy growled.

Carmen stood back calmly, her hands at her sides, and let Ivy's contentious tirade fill the room, as the detective cursed and shouted, taking the castigation, even when the diffuse stream of words turned derogatory.

The only sign that she was listening came at the slight tightening of the corners of her eyes, each time Ivy said something particularly sharp.

When the detective finally ran out of energy, the thief calmly spoke. "Are you done?"

Ivy kicked the desk in frustration. "You're better than this, and you're treating yourself like a worthless tramp. To appease him with your body like that is just…" She quivered, "Don't do this," she begged.

"If you'd let me speak, during your self-righteous harangue, detective" Carmen mentioned steadily, "you'd know you're a bit late to be making that request…By ten years or two days, depending on whether you want to count the first black op."

Ivy cursed violently.

"This isn't a surprise, detective." Carmen admonished. "Why all the indignation now?"

Ivy threw her hands into the air. "You were desperate last time."

"I am desperate now. When Nicholas is in a bad mood…" Carmen began, her arms outstretched in front of her, as though begging to explain to explain. "Everything turns into a bloodbath. And this is a man who could probably get his hands on a nuclear weapon in a week! I can blunt his rage, buy time, and protect my employees."

"Your employees are idiots." Ivy hissed caustically.

"They've my idiots." Carmen answered sternly. "Nicholas confuses physical touch with affection. The ridiculous notion of his that I love him is the only weakness I can find to exploit. If I disabuse him of the notion now, detective, we force a battle we can't win."

Ivy looked back at the older woman, breathing hard, as her anger started to drain. Carmen was looking vulnerable and a little hurt. That made it difficult to stay furious at her.

"We need more time, Ivy… and I think you know it."

"I can't condone this…" Ivy muttered, half to herself.

"Then don't." Carmen answered dryly. It's actually a little comforting to know that you don't like the idea." She laughed, shakily. "It _is_ rather nauseating, isn't it?"

Ivy took a deep breath, trying to reconcile her antipathy for the entire notion with its necessity. "Can you handle this?"

"He's revolting. I'd rather drink bleach." Carmen retorted shortly. "If you have a better suggestion I will take it in a heartbeat but until then I need to prepare."

Ivy shook her head, trying to come up with a cogent alternative.

"I'll be alright." Carmen comforted, as if she didn't quite believe herself. "I'll just…"

Ivy cut her off with a gesture. "I think I'd rather not think about it any more…" She whispered.

"Of course. Perhaps you'd rather deal with the instrumentation aspect." Carmen said understandingly. "This…" She held up a tiny chip. "Will record the conversation. But it has a short range and Nicholas will have swept the room, so it more or less has to be on my person. And for reasons you'd rather forget, detective, not on clothing."

"On your watch?" Ivy suggested.

"Too obvious." Carmen countered. "Inside a cut." She took a pocketknife from her coat and rubbed some hand sanitizer on it. From her desk, she took a first aid kit and removed a gauze pad and some medical gloves.

"Carmen, you're crazy." Ivy said, shocked by the suggestion.

Carmen extended the knife and took off her coat, a little hesitantly, as if removing the trademark clothing somehow divested her of its protection.

"I'd just put it under a bandage, but Nicholas will probably check. Make an incision on the upper arm." She ordered, gesturing to the outside of the limb. "Insert the chip, then stitch the cut closed."

"With sewing thread?" Ivy gasped, seeing what had been provided. "And don't you want pain medicine or something?"

Carmen grabbed in yet another drawer and washed two Advil down with the last of her Gatorade. "Happy?"

"No! That won't even take effect for…"

"Detective, aren't you a martial artist?" Carmen said, forestalling the objection. "You hit my minions harder than this."

Ivy just blanched.

Carmen shrugged and reached for the knife, "I doubt it will be as neat if I do it myself, detective, but if you can't…"

"Ok…" Ivy acceded. "Brace yourself, then. I really wish we had a better idea than this."

Carmen turned her face towards the photographs, and gave a slight nod. A moment later, she looked back, at the thin bloody line across her arm.

"It's got to be deeper than that, detective. Aim for half an inch down by an inch long, then tiny stitches."

Ivy complied.

Carmen's jaw line might have gotten a little tighter, but Ivy could make out no other signs of pain.

When the stitching was finally done and the injured area covered with a thin bandage, Carmen stood up. "Thank you. I know that was difficult for you."

As Ivy took a deep breath, Carmen took a tissue and removed her trademark lipstick, replacing it with a layer of clear Chap Stick.

At Ivy's inquiring look, the thief explained. "If I see my lipstick smudged on him again, I might just throw up."

Ivy's stomach turned.

"Now what?" Ivy managed.

"Now I go to him, and use all my charms to convince him to confess." Carmen answered. She tossed her hair, with faux lightness "How do I look?"

"Like you're afraid for your life." Ivy responded sadly.

"He likes that." Carmen commented dourly.

"I feel like I should be offering you a stiff drink or something." Ivy remarked nervously.

"I need my wits, detective, but I appreciate the sentiment." Carmen declined.

"Carmen… I…" Ivy trailed off diffidently…

The thief looked deeply at the agent. "You want to tell me that everything will be alright." She guessed, "But you're not sure it will be and you're too blasted noble to lie."

Ivy blinked a few times, trying to clear her eyes, which were starting to burn. "Yeah… that's about it. Would I have made you feel any better?"

"No." Carmen answered in a low tone. "That's the last thing Bridgette told me, before Nicholas shot her."

Ivy was speechless.

After a minute, Carmen reached into her blouse and pulled out Marguerite Avalon's locket. "Hold this for me…" She said softly, pressing Ivy's hand around the necklace. "If I wear it twice, he'll realize it means something to me."

"Carmen are you sure you can do this…?" Ivy asked, desperately hoping the master thief would refuse.

Carmen hesitated. "You can make this easier, detective."

Ivy acquiesced. "What do you need?"

"Just… look at me for a moment." Carmen brought two fingers under Ivy's chin and turned up her face.

The agent stood impassively, as the master thief scanned her features, bolstering her nerve.

"Are you happy, Ivy?" Carmen asked, "Is your life a good one?"

Ivy swallowed, uncomfortable. "Yes."

Carmen nodded, and looked over the agent again, visibly steeling herself. Then she sharply strode to the door.

Ivy wasn't sure, but she thought she heard Carmen mutter.

"Worth it…."

Her next words were so inaudible that Ivy missed them all together.

"Worth far more than me…"


	7. Aldonza

_Carmen nodded, and looked over the agent again, visibly steeling herself. Then she sharply strode to the door. _

_Ivy wasn't sure, but she thought she heard Carmen mutter._

"_Worth it…."_

_Her next words were so inaudible that Ivy missed them all together._

"_Worth far more than me…"

* * *

_

_The Limelight, New York City_

Are you sure about this?" Zack asked.

"She will be here." Suhara said deliberately. "This was the agreed upon place. When we created this code so many years ago."

"But this place…" Zack looked around the cacophonous sordid nightclub.

"Is everything that she is not…" Suhara finished, gesturing around at the anonymous gyrating bodies on the dance floor. "If you fear to be found, go where no one can imagine you. Cease your worrying, Zack, she will arrive. Center your mind and wait."

Zack fidgeted and tried not to watch what seemed to be a drug deal, a few feet away.

"So…uh." He began a few minutes later, interrupting the older man's meditation. "You two had this code, when you were partners."

"Indeed." Suhara answered, in a far away voice, barely audible over the music. "Though we rarely used this section. The other colors, Zack, were a game. Red though, was our signal for something terrible."

"So she just sent you something red?"

Suhara opened his hand. "Red butterfly. It signified that the infiltration of Acme. Abandon the computer system, trust with great discretion, and meet here." The mentor shook his head.

"Did you ever have to use the red codes before?" Zack asked.

"Red butterfly, no." Suhara's ancient voice explained. "We did use red snowflake, though."

"What'd that mean?" Zack inquired curiously.

"It meant 'I'm in unbearable pain.'" Suhara explained. "When we were still partners, I suffered though a kidney stone. All my Zen training, Zack, fell apart at that hurt. I summoned Carmen, and she went to me, talked me through my meditation exercises, and held my hand through it." His voice admitted a tinge of bitterness, "She committed her first theft a week later."

"Sorry." Zack said sheepishly.

"About a year after that." Suhara continued, "Carmen sent me the same sign. I suspected a trick and ignored her." He bit his lip, "I don't know how she even managed to contact me from Morocco. When you told me what happened there, I knew I'd failed her."

Zack winced. "Anyone would have been wary."

"I misjudged her," Suhara voiced. "Badly. In abjuring her crime, I forgot the person I knew she was."

"Hey. It was what we all thought. It's ok."

Suhara chose to ignore the comforting words. "There she is." He gestured.

Zack had a difficult time believing that. The Hispanic woman across the room was dressed in a tiny black dress, skin tight to her figure. Her hair was dyed, with streaks of bleached blond and red.

Besides, she was dancing, quite provocatively, with a circle of male admirers around her. Zack blushed, as the room seemed to get warmer.

"That can't be Carmen," he muttered, looking at the woman strutting and spinning to the techno music. "Carmen would never dance like **that**." Carmen would never look so… sleazy.

"Not normally…" Suhara acknowledged.

However, half an hour or so later, Zack realized that Suhara must be correct, as the woman crossed the room to stand near them.

"Hola boys." She began with a smoldering smile. "My name's Aldonza." She added for the benefit of the audience, with a smooth Spanish accent.

* * *

"I see you believe me this time, Suhara-Sama…" Zack noticed the subtle hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Is there anything you would like to say to Zack, Carmen?"

After an awkward silence, Carmen spoke. "Yes. I should give you this, and say it's a good thing you have a strong head for languages."

"Any nerd loves Morse Code, Carmen." Zack said benevolently when he saw the photo of Ivy, with a picture of that day's New York Times in the frame, enough to discredit the so-called proof of Ivy's death and exculpate Carmen. "Thanks for protecting my sister."

"She's safe, I promise." Carmen vowed. "And you will be safe with Suhara. He's the best there is."

"Chief's really upset." Zack prompted softly.

Carmen bit her lip and shook her head. "It's too dangerous. I've been meaning to talk to you about it. He's far too easy to hack. I check on him every night before I go to sleep. That's how simple it is. Anything I tell him I tell Nicholas."

Zack hung back a few feet, as Carmen and Suhara walked arm in arm down the streets of New York.

"What do you need Carmen?" Suhara asked gently.

She handed him a duffle bag.

"Evidently you can still bag and tag…" Suhara commented, as he observed the collection of labeled baggies inside and initialed each baggie.

Carmen smiled hollowly. "You're never going to let me forget about that, are you, Sensei? I documented everything just as I was taught. This whole thing is enough of a dark parody on my training as it is.'

"But what is it?"

"Nicholas Moskvani's confession on audio and some discrete supporting material. Bring it to light when he's captured, Suhara-Sama." Carmen instructed, "Until then, lie low, keep Zack with you, and trust no one, especially the agent Ray Sting. He's Nicholas' hit man."

The teacher slung the bag over his shoulder.

"You may screen the tape if you wish, Sensei," Carmen said, deferentially. "But please, Zack should not hear the rest."

"Why?" Zack asked.

"Because you're sixteen years old, detective." Carmen snapped, her eyes flashing furiously.

Zack recoiled.

"You're hurting, Carmen-Chan." Suhara said softly.

"No…" She slurred, with sedated hysteria, "No I feel good, Suhara-Sama." Her laugh was disturbing.

"Have you forgotten that I also have seen _Man of La Mancha_, Carmen?" Suhara said sadly. "Aldonza is an unusual alias. You always have preferred obscure irony when a simple statement would suffice."

"It's an apt metaphor…" Carmen suggested, with a cracked smile.

"Stop it." Suhara ordered austerely.

Carmen ceased grinning and stood up a little straighter. "I'm not drunk." She said steadily, with no hint of slur.

"Did I ask you that?" Suhara asked sternly, with an air of authority.

"No sir." The thief answered deferentially, shuffling her feet. "But I didn't drink anything, Sensei, I swear."

Zack frowned because he couldn't quite get his head around the conversation. He wasn't sure which conundrum confused him further, the notion of seeing Carmen submissive or the notion of seeing Carmen drunk.

"I believe you." Suhara averred. "Your breath is clean. Alcohol is not your method." He discerned. "I doubt you've had anything to eat or drink in hours."

"Nothing like the feeling of a heist." Carmen moaned.

"Stop it." Suhara instructed again, in the same inscrutable tone as before.

Carmen swallowed. "Stop what?" She challenged.

"You know what. Stop defining yourself by what other people name you. Or what they do to you."

"I make my own destiny." Carmen answered fiercely.

"You play the nearest role…" Suhara elucidated. "With great skill, but neither it, nor your dearly bought autonomy, brings you any peace. Let go of the pain, rather than seeking to deny it."

"Let it alone Suhara…" the thief warned.

"What did Ivy say to you. Carmen? To hurt you so badly…."

"You don't understand me." Carmen hissed, and it occurred to Zack that Suhara must be on to something to make her that defensive.

"You pretend you don't feel." Suhara declared, "And then you hurt yourself worse, so you can renounce it again. Am I close, Carmen?"

Carmen growled, but Zack couldn't make out any words to it.

"For example," The teacher continued, his eyes deep wells of sadness, "I would imagine that right now you're feeling… disgusted, hurt, angry, degraded, and used. So you…"

"Since when do you care how I feel!" Carmen shouted.

Suhara recoiled, his face clouded with pain and regret.

"Sorry…" Carmen said softly into the hollow silence. "It's just… This isn't some old legend where you can save me, Suhara." She moved her hands to punctuate the words, " You've had your chance to do that. It's too late now… I hate it, but wishing this away won't solve anything. I have to face the situation I created."

"You have a choice…" Suhara offered.

"Nicholas will rot in prison for the rest of his life." Carmen grated, "That will be my doing and my choice, Suhara."

She strode away. Sober or not, her gait was definitely off.

The master shook his head.

* * *

_VILE Headquarters, location unknown_

Ivy jumped as Carmen abruptly opened the door to her office.

"Are you…?" The detective began.

"I doubt it's your business, June." Carmen said coldly. "Has anyone been in this room since I left?"

Catching on, Ivy answered, "No one, boss."

We'll see about that." Carmen responded direly, and made a strange gesture with her thumb against one of the hoop earrings.

Realizing that Carmen was probably screening the room for bugs again, Ivy kept quiet.

"You're right this time, detective." Carmen said softly, kicking off her heels and beginning to remove her jewelry. "We're clear, but keep your voice down anyway."

"Did you have any luck?" Ivy inquired in the same low tone.

"Your brother has the chip. On it, Nicolas confesses to seven murders, and ordering the hit on you. The background noise is humiliating from my perspective, but as long as you lock him up and leave him there, I can deal with it." Carmen hopped from foot to foot erratically.

"Carmen…" Ivy began forlornly.

"Don't get upset about it now, detective." Carmen commented, still jumping around like a boxer to burn off excess energy. "I'm in the middle of a heist. I will not be feeling any pain for a few hours, at least. Save that sentiment for when the high wears off."

"I don't think you'll be feeling very good in the morning." Ivy said, seeing the shame behind Carmen's darting eyes.

"Me neither." Carmen commented brusquely. "But Nicolas is expecting me in half an hour, so I'd better keep moving. Make yourself useful, June, and help me get this blasted dye out of my hair."

* * *

Ivy awoke the next morning in Carmen's high backed chair, where she had fallen asleep, after her erstwhile nemesis had left. It was still early, about 4:00 am, local time.

The detective stretched, dislodging her covering. She frowned in surprise. Someone had tucked Carmen's trench coat around Ivy's shoulders as she slept.

Glancing around, Ivy found Carmen. The master thief, clad in a red satin bathrobe, sat on the floor with her back against the door, hugging her legs, with her head against her knees.

Carmen looked up, her hair disheveled, lines of misery tarnishing her face.

"What?" She asked. "You looked cold."

* * *

**A/N: For those of you who might be wondering about my choice of a drop point. The club I mentioned was called the limelight during the period (late 90s) in which my story is set. During another incarnation, however, it was named "Avalon." Figured I'd go for some irony.**


	8. Lady Macbeth

Summary: By living out the coda to her past, Carmen could save their future. Sequel to Endgame.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: There is violence, heavily implied sexual content, weapons, drug content, alcohol, and abuse of power in this work of fiction, and not of the cartoon variety. The characters as portrayed here are neither invincible nor morally flawless. If you read Endgame, you have some clue what I'm capable of writing here. If you haven't read Endgame, I suggest you read it first. However, if you are too young or attached to "beloved childhood" versions of the characters… you've been warned.

* * *

_Glancing around, Ivy spotted Carmen. The master thief, clad in a red satin bathrobe, sat on the floor with her back against the door, hugging her legs, with her head against her knees. _

_Carmen looked up, her hair disheveled, lines of misery tarnishing her face._

"_What?" She asked. "You looked cold."

* * *

_

"Carmen…" Ivy whispered hesitantly, gently shaking the seated figure slumped against the office wall, "Carmen…"

Her eyes snapped open. "What time is it?"

"About 7:00 AM, by the clock." Ivy clarified.

"Fine then," Carmen looked up attentively, "Why'd you wake me?"

Ivy was starting to wonder the same thing. "You um…" She muttered ambiguously, abruptly thinking better of this whole conversation. "You were crying in your sleep."

Carmen ran her hand across her eyes and then glared at whatever she saw on it. "Don't be ridiculous, detective." She said dismissively.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ivy asked awkwardly.

"No," Carmen answered matter-of-factly, "And I doubt you want to hear about it." She paused. "I just miss Bridgette is all…"

Ivy nodded in sympathy. "And these last two nights?"

"He only kissed me."

Ivy analyzed the thief's expression for a moment. "I don't believe you."

"Oh well," Carmen dissembled, shifting her weight. "It was worth the try. And even if the lie is not very convincing, I need to practice saying it. That's what we're telling your brother, so get used to it."

Ivy frowned but said nothing.

Carmen pushed against the ground, grimacing, as she stood up.

"I was just thinking…" Ivy said softly. "How old were you, the first time you went through this? About my age?"

"I was older than you." Carmen equivocated, trying to ameliorate Ivy's perception of the situation.

"You know, you can stop lying to make me feel better." Ivy rejoined irritably. "It's not working."

"Nineteen. I went to bed with him that first time a few days after my birthday." Carmen finally answered.

"So… almost exactly my age." Ivy inferred.

"Yes…" Carmen admitted.

Ivy shivered. "I don't think I could have done that."

Carmen put her hand on Ivy's shoulder. "Detective… detective look at me." She ordered gently. "I am glad…very glad… that this is me and not you. If they ever approach you about something analogous to this, you refuse them, understand?"

They looked at each other.

"I know you're idealistic." Carmen added, "But don't be foolish like I was. Don't be proud."

"Any chance that scavenger hunt thing you did that one year was you trying not to remember that anniversary?" Ivy asked, to avoid having to answer.

"No." Carmen said dismissively "That was just…" she paused. "That was just straight loneliness." She finished frankly.

Ivy couldn't think of an answer.

"That reminds me," Carmen started, as if remembering something. She took a small box from a desk drawer and held it out. "Happy birthday, detective."

"I can't accept…" Ivy began, realizing, with some shock, that today was her birthday. How had she forgotten?

"I didn't steal it." Carmen said, forestalling the most obvious objection. " I paid for it, on whatever honor I have left. Though I did plan a special chase for us…"

"I guess that'll have to wait…" Ivy commented wryly.

Carmen left her hand outstretched. "Take it, detective."

Ivy opened the box. Inside was small piece of jewelry, in the shape of a hand, with an eye in the open palm.

"It's supposed to be good luck." Carmen explained, "And protect you from evil."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck." Ivy said, gently touching the amulet.

"I don't." Carmen answered cynically. Then, she swallowed. "But wear it anyway, would you?"

Ivy slipped the necklace on.

Carmen picked at her fingernails. "I need to brush my teeth…"

"Carmen," Ivy put a hand out to stop her. "Would you cut it out with the Lady Macbeth act already?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Carmen denied.

"You've brushed your teeth at least ten times, since you got back a few hours ago." Ivy clarified, gesturing to the washroom off the side of the office.

Carmen shifted her feet.

"I um… heard you get up." Ivy clarified. "But stop it would you? I don't think its helping…"

"I guess I'm not as good at sneaking around today…" Carmen muttered.

"Guess not…" Ivy answered quietly.

"So…" Carmen initiated after a while, "My employees won't wake up for hours yet. I'm going to go run my own obstacle course and see if I can't get some endorphins going."

"I don't like the idea of you leaving this room." Ivy countered quite honestly, though she was not sure whether she feared for Carmen's safety or her own. The detective was unlikely to admit that she did not feel confident by herself, but she had spent entirely too much time alone with her imagination in the recent past.

"Well, what do you suggest I do for exercise?" Carmen asked irritably.

"You don't need a workout now!" Ivy snapped, although a nice run was starting to sound good to her too. "You're practically sleeping on your feet."

"This from the girl who woke me up." Carmen joked.

"Ok, fine." Ivy retorted. "We'll work out here then." She opened the desk drawers. "Got any sharpies?"

"Second drawer down on the left, first compartment… why?"

Ivy tossed Carmen a marker and uncapped one for herself. "Knife defense drill. No pain, no cheating. Though you might want to change into something you don't mind getting stains on."

Carmen looked at the sharpie for a moment and then grinned broadly. "That's rather clever, detective. Let's go." She lunged.

Ivy shifted quickly into a defensive stance and countered.

In 20 minutes, both women had their outer arms covered in marker. Carmen had a black slash across her high cheekbones and another long one across the material covering her chest. Ivy sported a dark marking across her knee and another across her throat. A dozen less prominent stains and puncture dots demonstrated other kill shots.

Carmen put her hands up for a time out. "I want some water," she said, gesturing to her desiccated throat.

Ivy grabbed a small water bottle from Carmen's desk. Carmen swallowed half the contents and handed it to Ivy, who took a gulp and returned it for the thief to finish.

They resumed their game, and after a while, settled into an easy friendly banter.

"You're good at this detective." Carmen taunted, out of breath, "But you'll have to do better."

Ivy responded with a flurry of strikes. "You're a great defender, but a lousy attacker." She analyzed.

"I'll take that as a compliment, detective." Carmen responded, with something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

Ivy came forward another time, with gusto, and both ended up on the floor, laughing too hard to attack.

Carmen put up a hand for a break… "That was …," she laughed…. "More fun… than I've…had in…" Suddenly a flash of terror crossed her face. "Where did you get that water bottle?"


	9. Flame Test

_Ivy came forward another time, with gusto, and both ended up on the floor, laughing too hard to attack. _

_Carmen put up a hand for a break… "That was …," she laughed…. "More fun… than I've…had in…" Suddenly a flash of terror crossed her face. "Where did you get that water bottle?"

* * *

_

_Acme Headquarters, San Francisco_

Tea bags in hot water from the headquarters' coffee machine weren't exactly the several-hour ceremony they had enjoyed the past time. Still, in a rustic way, it felt right.

"You look angry, Suhara." Zack commented, glancing over the dark expression cast over the teacher's usually serene features.

"I should not have listened to that tape, Zack." Suhara explained slowly, sipping his drink with a dark expression. "It's made me wrathful…rash…"

Zack frowned and tried not to speculate.

"I have made..." Suhara said softly. "So many mistakes…"

"Don't keep beating yourself up for something that happened so long ago." Zack offered.

"I made a mistake last night." Suhara explained. "Carmen never asks for help straight out. She uses symbols and references. I should not have confronted her about it."

"That Aldonza thing?" Zack asked, still confused by the entire situation.

"Was Carmen asking me to comfort her…" Suhara elucidated.

"Carmen?" Zack asked incredulously. Most of the time, Carmen would have berated anyone who tried to soothe her.

"She needed me to tell her that I don't blame her for what she's been doing and that I'd gladly kill Nicholas for forcing himself on her." Suhara continued in a tone of frustrated anguish. "Instead I attacked her method of explaining herself and confirmed her whole metaphor."

"What are we going to do?" Zack asked deferentially.

Suhara sighed. "I am failing at my duty, Zack."

"Why?"

"Because Carmen choose me to protect you, but all I can think about is running in and pulling her out of there…. well that and burning that horrible man alive."

Zack could understand that impulse. He nodded. "Then we'll do that."

The master shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if I abandon you and you're injured, her abnegation will be wasted."

"Abnegation?" Zack asked.

"Self sacrifice, Zack." Suhara clarified.

"Dude… what's happening to her?"

Suhara didn't answer. "I have to honor her choice."

"Then we just wait?" Zack asked, feeling his sister's characteristic impatience start to kick in.

"She'll check in every four hours with this." Suhara said, holding up what looked like a small light with a radio antenna. "If it flashes red in 10 minutes, Zack, it means she's alright… well as alright as possible given the circumstances at least."

They watched the item for 20 minutes, and nothing happened.

"Suhara?" Zack ventured.

"We have to get her out of there." Suhara said, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Do we know where she is?" Zack asked, confused.

Suhara shook his head.

If Zack hadn't been so worried, the situation would have been funny. "Yeah, I have that problem a lot."

"It would have to be a hideout…" Suhara reasoned. "Carmen would put it somewhere she felt safe."

"She said something about the situation being a parody of her training…" Zack remembered the inside joke he hadn't been party too. "Could that be a hint on her location."

Suhara stood up abruptly.

"Get your equipment, Zack. I know where she is."

* * *

_VILE Headquarters, Location Unknown_

"From the desk. Why?" Ivy asked.

Carmen didn't waste time on words. She threw open what looked like a supply cabinet, revealing a mess of electrical equipment. The brightly colored lights and multiple displays looked like a futuristic anachronism, next to the colonial wooden style of the cabinet.

The thief poured the last few drops from the bottom of the bottle into a quartz tube, inserted it into a slot, and punched keys quickly and stared .

"What are you doing?" Ivy asked, realizing that she was starting to feel a little strange.

"A couple of kinds of spectroscopy, detective." Carmen said.

"Spectro-what?"

"Mass spectrometry, IR UV, and some chromatography for good measure."

"Carmen," Ivy was getting a bit drowsy. "That doesn't help." She didn't have the faintest idea what the thief was talking about. "Why do you have a science lab in your closet anyway?"

"I grounded Sara."

"Huh?" Ivy yawned.

"When Sara tried to take over VILE, I took her toys away for a few months. But they were fun so I had her make me copies. That girl may be a disloyal fool, but she builds some great experimental setups."

Ivy wondered if that was supposed to be funny.

"Come on. Run!" Carmen growled at the machines. Experimentally she removed her pocket knife, flipped open a lighter attachment and shook the bottle to send a few tiny drops into it. The flame….

"Is it supposed to be that color?" Ivy asked, as the look on Carmen's face confirmed for her that it was not. She had never seen water do that before.

Lights flashed on the display, and some insane combination of graphs appeared on the screen.

"If it's just water." Carmen explained. "We should see peaks here and here." She gestured to certain parts of the screen, "And maybe around here for some common harmless solutes."

"So what are those?" Ivy asked, pointing to some other places where the graph jumped dramatically.

"I don't know." Carmen answered. "But it's not good. How do you feel?"

"Kinda…" Ivy felt like her breathing just kept getting slower. "Kinda languid."

"Me too…" Carmen said, and her eyes sort of fluttered. "I think it was a … sedative…"

"You..." The detective wasn't processing things very well right now. "Had more than me… didn't you?"

"If someone did this to us…" Carmen said. "Nicholas… oh blast, he knows."

Ivy felt a twinge of lazy fear.

"We… we have to move." Carmen managed, through her enervated state. "We have to get out of here."

Ivy's legs felt heavy and she doubted she could manage much.

"Come on, detective."

She felt a hand at her back pushing her forward.

"Come on, let's go."

Through the drug induced apathy, Ivy felt her feet start to take slow steps. The room seemed unusually dark.

Carmen opened the door, and pushed Ivy into a hallway.

"You're doing great." The agent heard Carmen say as they trotted down the hallway, with desultory wandering steps. "Good job… good job, come on."

The room was spinning. All she wanted to do was rest, but the stream of encouraging words and gentle pulls didn't stop. They made it down three more hallways.

" That's it. Good…. Good…." Carmen's voice sounded hazy too, though Ivy had difficulty distinguishing.

Ivy needed to rest. She needed to sleep. Please, she needed to sleep.

"Can't," She murmured, falling to her knees.

"Yes, you can." Carmen pulled on her shoulder, "Let's go."

Ivy couldn't keep her eyes open. "Don't leave…." Through the exhaustion, she was terrified.

"I'm right here." Carmen said. "Not going to leave you…"

Before she could feel completely reassured, Ivy noticed a figure standing in the doorway.

"Hello, моя любовь. Hello, detective."


	10. Sulfur Mustard

"_I'm right here." Carmen said. "Not going to leave you…"_

_Before she could feel completely reassured, Ivy noticed a figure standing in the doorway._

"_Hello, моя любовь. Hello, detective."

* * *

_

"Did you think I was a fool Carmen?" Nicholas demanded, his voice dipping with fury. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"

Ivy heard a low groan from next to her and was shocked to realize it was coming from the other woman. The detective saw a vague movement in her peripheral vision, as the murderer knelt next to Carmen.

"Do you remember, моя любовь, what I told you would happen if I thought you'd betrayed me?" Nicholas asked as he played with Carmen's hair.

Ivy tried to force herself to jump up and strike at Nicholas, but only got about an inch forward before she fell forward to her hands and knees, this time hearing a moan from her own throat. It seemed too soft to be commensurate with the fear she was feeling.

"Ah… see. I've anticipated that. No martial arts or high tech tricks this time. I am in power here, not you. Now Carmen, do you remember?"

"I'd beg you to… kill me." Carmen rasped.

Nicholas grinned. "Exactly."

"Should I" Carmen asked laconically 'Start now?"

The arms dealer laughed. "Always audacious."

Ivy failed yet again to cut through her growing lassitude long enough to get in a hit, and the pain of trying was starting to serve as a strong deterrent. How was Carmen even staying conscious?

"If you want…" Nicholas continued. "Or pray if you like. Neither will help you."

Carmen simply remained where she was, silent and inert.

Ivy didn't have long to contemplate their indeterminate fate because the arms-dealer spoke again.

"Now you, Carmen." Nicholas continued. "You like challenges. You'll appreciate how much of one you are. You don't respond to pain." He dragged a finger over one of her scars. "Or shame." In one smooth continuous movement his hand swept across her chest.

Ivy thought she heard Carmen whimper.

"So I was thinking about what frightens you… and I realized… It's not you I need to frighten is it?"

Both women gasped.

"So, I'm going to let you live… for now." He leaned to whisper in her ear. "In your control room is a bomb. When it goes off, the low level explosion will release sulfur mustard into your ventilation system."

Ivy lazily recognized the name as mustard gas, a chemical weapon used in world war one. Through her haze, she felt terror, remembering the horrific pictures she had seen in history class, pictures of people with their entire skin reduced to pustules and blisters.

"It might or might not kill you," Nicholas explained. "But while you're suffering." He laughed manically. "You'll have ample time to hear this entire building scream. You did that to them. If by some chance you're still breathing at the end, then we can play some more. I'll let you watch me track down and kill your other friends." He took a step towards Ivy.

Somehow, Carmen got up onto her knees and grabbed the front of Nicholas' shirt, pulling him down and away from the detective, but the murderer just laughed discordantly.

"Well, I doubt you'll be looking anywhere near as beautiful in an hour. So…" He violently grabbed the side of her face and forced a deep kiss. "Until next crime, Carmen…" Nicholas started to turn to Ivy again.

With a strained yell, Carmen pulled Nicholas' shoulders towards her and drove her knee hard into his groin. "You stay away from her!" The thief snapped, as the arms dealer doubled over in agony.

Nicholas screamed and slumped onto his knees.

Somehow Carmen must have fought down the sedatives long enough to get in another hit, because her elbow made solid contact with the side of the murderer's head. "And don't…" she groaned in exhaustion. "Don't touch me!"

Nicholas recovered, growled, and wrapped his hands around Carmen's throat.

Carmen choked and struggled, but she was weaker.

Ivy saw a dark shadow coming behind Nicholas. As the detective tried to cry out, the figure pulled Nicholas off Carmen.

A knife flashed in a macabre arc and Ivy felt something hot and sticky spray onto her face.

Nicholas collapsed, screaming, falling forward onto Carmen.

Carmen pushed the thrashing body away. "Get off…" She muttered through gritted teeth. "Get off me!"

The intruder pulled Nicholas off the ground and slashed him again and again, creating dark arcs of scarlet droplets, across Ivy's line of sight. "Take that you sick bastard!" He shouted.

"Suhara?" Carmen called, her face drenched in crimson liquid.

"You're alive?" Their rescuer asked, surprised, letting the body drop to the floor.

The figure did not look a thing like Suhara to Ivy. His hair was not light enough and shape seemed different. However, Carmen seemed so certain that Ivy would not have wanted to argue.

"Very well." The figure did not drop the weapon. "Come here, Carmen. It's over now…It's time to rest. "

"Suhara…" Carmen's voice seemed to come from far away. "There's a bomb."

The shadow took a step back in shock, realizing the exigency. "We'll have to evacuate."

"No time…" Carmen's hollow voice contradicted. "Get me to the control room. I'll stop it."

"Where's the room?" Their savior asked.

Carmen's hand moved slowly. "Two doors down."

Ivy felt cloth surround her as man picked her up… walked through the doors and tossed her on the floor like a rag doll. Seconds later, he did the same to Carmen… though he set her down, perhaps a bit more carefully, next to a pile of tangled wires.

"There now." The figure said soothingly. "You've seen a setup like this before, haven't you Carmen."

"Yes, Sensei."

Ivy still couldn't shake the notion that this wasn't Suhara, but she didn't have the energy to follow through on her line of thought.

"And you know which wire to cut?"

"Yes, Sensei." Carmen repeated.

"Then, when you're ready, cut it."

"Yes, Sensei."

Ivy saw Carmen's pocket knife cut through a blue wire on the edge, backlit by the shine from the coagulating blood on Carmen's face. Then everything went black.


	11. Sweeney Todd

"_Then, when you're ready, cut it." _

"_Yes, Sensei." _

_Ivy saw Carmen's pocket knife cut through a blue wire on the edge, backlit by the shine from the coagulating blood on Carmen's face. Then everything went black.

* * *

_

_Mount Kumotori, Japan_

Zack had never run so hard in his life. He certainly hadn't run so hard up a hill like this anytime in recent memory. As he sister often noted, he found extended exercise arduous, but he was starting to wish he had practiced a little more.

"Why did it have to be a mountain?"

"Save your breath, Zack."

"You had to train her on a mountain. And how come you can move this fast anyhow? Aren't you supposed to be old?"

"I will manage."

He certainly was managing. Zack didn't have a prayer of keeping up.

"Found a door!" Suhara called back, pushing aside a collection of burgeoning plants.

"OK," Zack huffed. "I'm coming."

They ran through the corridors at breakneck speed. Once or twice they ran into some generic henchmen, but Suhara, with rapidly moving ninja skills, somehow subdued all of them. Then, they kept rushing.

"What are we going to do if they have guns?" Zack yelled.

Suhara didn't answer.

"Oh yeah." Zack whined, frantically moving his legs. "That's reassuring."

Zack screamed when they rounded a corner and saw the group.

Ivy was spread out over the floor, sprawled on her stomach.

Blood was all over her, a fine film of red droplets covering her face.

Carmen was equally unconscious and even more drenched in crimson. Deep streams of burnished red ran over her head and hair, attenuating when they reached her coat. A burly male figure was bent over her brandishing a knife, pulling her head back by her soaked hair to expose her throat.

When Suhara saw what was going on, he growled and launched forward.

The man, whomever he was, stood and started to escape down a corridor.

Neither agent gave pursuit.

Suhara dropped to his knees next to Carmen. He cradled her like a child, buttressing her neck with his arm, and felt around saying, "I've got a pulse."

Zack did the same for Ivy. "Me too."

* * *

_St. Lukes International Hospital_, _Tsukiji, Tokyo_

"Manimi!" Setsuko called. "Room 256 needs vitals checked and bandages changed."

It was Manimi's first week as a hospital nurse, and she was beyond nervous. Most of that had to do with her new supervisor. Setsuko was absolutely terrifying and not at all interested in getting along.

"Thought room 256 was an overdose." Rei commented. Rei was finishing for the day and handing her shift off to Melanie.

"She came in with a couple of infected cuts." Setsuko clarified impatiently. "And enough sedatives in her blood to knock out a giant. The nastiest drug cocktail I've seen in years. Rohypnol, Ketamine, and GHB adulterated with some even more creative choices. Mostly sedatives, but some of it was just poisonous. There were even some really weird metal ions... I doubt we even have tests for everything she consumed. More or less the ultimate aggregation of things you don't want to swallow. "

"Wait," Manimi said, suddenly excited, and a lot more afraid. "Is this the Sandiego room?"

Setsuko's eyes were on the paper she was filling out but she answered. "Yes."

"The international thief?"

Setsuko snapped her fingers in exasperation. "The same. The one who came into the ER looking like a scene from Sweeny Todd, drenched in blood, with that detective, and that hysterical kid and the old men who disturbed the whole shift. That one!"

"How is the detective?" Rei asked.

"Awake and demanding." Setsuko muttered facetiously, handing off the clipboard with a derisive glance. "And a complete pain in the neck. Got less of the sedatives apparently."

"And Ms. Sandiego?" Rei continued.

Setsuko put her hands on her hips. "Still out cold. Will be until the dialysis finishes cleaning her up. Or indefinitely... depending..." She turned back to Manimi. "Well? What did I tell you? Room 256, let's go!"

"I…" Manimi muttered nervously.

"What are you afraid she'll do? Steal from you while in a coma?" Setsuko muttered. "Like you've got anything of value. You get in there and you do your job."

* * *

"Hi there." Manimi said artlessly. She always talked to her patients and found that it helped. "My name's Manimi. I'm one of your nurses. I'm here to make sure you're nice and comfortable."

She started to run through the vitals. Ms Sandiego was still breathing very slowly, and her heart rate was low, but they fell in acceptable limits, given the circumstances. The machines were still hooked up properly, cleaning the poison out of her blood.

On to the injuries. She carefully removed the first bandage. "Yikes." She muttered. "How'd you do that."

The thin but deep cut was rimmed with ugly infected tissue and it looked like it had been reopened several times. Shaking her head, Manimi fixed the dressing.

Now the second bandage on her neck was ready to change. She pulled the gauze and skin apart carefully. "Oh my…" Manimi whispered "Is that a bite?"

Whatever it was, it looked utterly vicious, broken infected skin surrounded by yellow and purple bruises. Fighting down feelings of disgust, Manimi continued.

Carmen's lower lip was mangled something terrible and bit through in several places. Manimi shivered, wondering what could make someone chew through her own flesh like that, but she managed to clean that also and apply some Vaseline.

Reflecting that she really needed to get used to this stuff, given her line of work, Manimi finished her task.

As she left the room, she saw a young American boy, waiting by the door.

"Only relatives are allowed in this room." Manimi said apologetically.

Zack sighed. "We're the only family she's got, OK?"

Manimi frowned.

"Look, my sister has power of attorney for her and we're the cops on her case. One of those has to count for something."

The intern knew she was likely to end up in no end of trouble for this. "I won't tell on you, but if you flash your badge at Setsuko, it will not help."

"Thanks. Can she hear me?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

He held up a book. "Is it alright if I read to her?"

Manimi nodded. "That would be fine. Don't get caught in here."

Zack smiled, a bit sadly. "Don't worry. I won't. She's taught me a thing or two about that."


	12. Dulcinea

_He held up a book. "Is it alright if I read to her?" _

_Manimi nodded. "That would be fine."

* * *

_

"Well, I mean, yes idealism, yes the dignity of pure research, yes the pursuit of truth in all its forms," Zack read. He had been reading for what felt like ages.

The entire time, Carmen had remained unmoving, like a strange parody of peace. Even when Manimi came in to check on her, the dormant thief gave no response.

This time, however, Zack heard a keening sound coming from the thief's throat.

Dropping the book immediately, he rushed to her side. "Carmen?" Zack touched her shoulder hesitantly.

"Ugh…" The patient groaned. "Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital." Zack explained. "In Tokyo."

"I…" Suddenly Carmen forcefully grabbed Zack's wrist. "Your sister, what happened to your sister?"

"She's fine." Zack explained. "And awake."

"Oh…" Carmen said half to herself, releasing his arm. "Oh of course you wouldn't be here if she were… And Suhara?"

"Not a mark on him…" Zack filled her in.

"And chief?"

"Upset but he'll be OK… He's with Suhara. They wanted to come and sit with you but…" He spread his arms a little helplessly, "They just couldn't stand to see you this sick."

"And so you came to watch over me instead?" Carmen asked softly.

"Yeah, well" he held her pale hand for a moment. "I didn't think you should be alone when you woke up."

They kept the silence briefly.

Carmen took a breath. "And Nicholas?"

"He's dead." Zack answered bluntly.

Carmen's lips curled up in a strange smile. "Are you sure?"

"Positive…" Zack answered firmly. "Several severed arteries… and half a hundred other cuts. He was more or less hacked to bits when we got to him."

Carmen exhaled slowly.

"The knife wasn't too sharp," Zack filled her in, "And most of the wounds were…uh… low. Your rescuer was really going below the belt. Must have hurt like crazy."

"One of those was mine…" Carmen noted sheepishly.

"You had a knife?" Zack inquired.

"No I um… kneed him." Carmen clarified.

Zack grinned broadly.

"Don't you start taking pleasure in this, detective." Carmen lectured.

Zack ignored her instructions. "He will never…" he told her slowly and deliberately, "Put a hand on you again."

If Carmen found the notion at all comforting, she didn't show it. "Did you find his sig?"

"His what?" Zack asked.

"His gun... I hate that blasted thing almost as much as I hate him."

"Uh… I don't know. I'll check later for you if you want."

Carmen nodded and shifted her lower body slightly to move from her side to her back. "Ugh…" she gasped. "Blast…"

"You OK?" Zack asked hurriedly.

"Of course not." Carmen answered irritably, "I have a splitting headache and I'm …" She looked at him sharply and, in all likelihood, changed what she was going to say. "I'm just grumpy because it hurts."

"Hey you can be as grumpy as you want." Zack said lightly, "But I'm sorry you're in pain. Anything I can do? Do you want me to call the nurse?" He started to stand.

Carmen didn't try to hold him back or reach out but she said "no" weakly.

Zack sat back down. "Ok," he said.

"I had the strangest dream." Carmen mused, as if hunting for a new topic.

Zack smiled. "What'd you dream about?"

"I was on a spaceship… and there was this really pessimistic version of the chief… and the world was ruled by mice…"

Carmen glared at Zack when he laughed in reply. "I told you it was strange."

"I'm not mocking you." Zack defended himself. "It's just…" he went to pick up the book,_ Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. "I know where you got the idea."

Carmen guffawed, "You've been reading me a story about super intelligent mice, detective?"

Zack blushed. "Think of it as a really geeky satire. It's kind of convoluted."

"Well." Carmen swallowed as if the words were hard to say. "Thanks… Zack."

"No problem…" he replied "Just uh… don't blame Suhara for not staying with you. He really wanted to but he just couldn't…."

"How could I blame Suhara?" Carmen dismissed the notion out of hand. "He saved us and killed Nicholas…" She started as if surprised. "Oh no, he must be so upset. He hates violence almost as much as…"

"Carmen, Suhara didn't kill Nicholas."

"Of course he did… I saw him. And then he helped me defuse the bomb."

"That was someone else. We don't know who, but Suhara didn't get there until after the bomb was defused."

"What?"

"Maybe…" Zack suggested hesitantly, "Maybe you were really heavily drugged and you just… just wanted to believe it was Suhara."

Carmen blinked a couple of times and wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Where'd you learn to defuse bombs anyhow, Carmen?" Zack asked, digressing to distract her.

The thief sighed. "You really want to know, detective?"

"Yeah… sure." Zack answered bravely.

"Yugoslavia," Carmen answered in a hollow exhale.

'Really?" Zack asked… remembering some unpleasant news stories about the ethnic tensions in that place.

"Someday you'll realize." Carmen said blinking languidly as if she was about to fall asleep. "From outside the law, I can go places and help people you legalists can't even spare the energy to pity."

"Well," Zack commented. "It really saved the day."

"So when Suhara…"

"Carmen, I was with Suhara when he reached you and it wasn't him. Whoever killed Nicholas was about to kill you too. He had a the bloody knife to your throat and everything"

The corner of Carmen's mouth twitched slightly.

"And how did Nicholas know about you anyway? Ivy said he just stormed in like he had the whole plot figured out."

"I don't know, detective, but I hope I can find out."

"Of course you can. You can defuse bombs, take down international arms dealers…. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Sing?" Carmen suggested.

Zack laughed. "Ok, you're right about that."

"Actually," Carmen said pensively after a moment. "There are some things."

The detective looked on expectantly.

Carmen made a self-effacing noise in her throat, "I must really be drugged up to be telling you this, detective."

Zack simply sat and let her decide whether to talk.

"Promise not to use this in the game?" Carmen prompted.

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I promise."

Carmen shivered. "I can't be hooded, or blindfolded. Not without having…terrifying…. horrible… flashbacks. It's dreadfully craven, but I can't. I can't sleep unless I first run myself to the point of collapse. I can't … I can't love anyone."

"Carmen we both know that last one's not true. Maybe the first two but…"

Zack didn't bother completing his statement. Carmen had closed her eyes. "Hey, Dulcinea?"

Carmen looked up suddenly. "What did you call me?"

"Dulcinea." Zack said nervously. "That is your alias, isn't it?"

Carmen blinked a couple of times as her eyes watered. "Yes…" She whispered hoarsely.

"I thought you'd want to see these…" He handed her some photos.

"Who's this?" Carmen asked, flipping through the images of smiling children and happy families.

"We found of that Nicholas had another buyer for that smallpox strain." Zack explained. "We know who he would have used it on, if Nicholas had sold it to him. These are pictures from the community, taken this year. They're all doing fine now."

Carmen took one picture, a grinning toddler and stroked it with her thumb.

"You know, detective." She exhaled slowly, resting her eyes again. "I don't think I would mind hearing some more of that book. It assuages the headache a bit."

"Yeah…um… OK." Zack flipped open the pages again and began to read. "But there comes a point, I'm afraid where you begin to suspect that if there's any real truth, it's that the entire multidimensional infinity of the Universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs."

It was difficult to tell, with her eyes closed and her mouth still, but Carmen might have been laughing…or sobbing.

* * *

"She's gone!" Manimi gasped.

"What do you mean?" Her supervisor derided.

"I mean there's no one in her bed. She's escaped!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Setsuko snapped. "She's in no condition to go anywhere. I doubt she could take two steps in a row without falling on her face!" The supervisor flung open the door.

"Acme's not going to be too happy with us." Manimi worried.

Setsuko glared back. "You. Acme's not going to be too happy with you."

* * *

**Player: Wow, Carmen. You left in a hurry. **

**Carmen: I don't have the energy for our banter tonight, player. My retorts will be banal at best. Rain check? **

**Player: I just wanted to say you were really brave Carmen. **

**Carmen: What I did wasn't courage, player. It was just survival. **

**Player: Lucius Annaeus Seneca said, "Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."**

**Carmen: I shouldn't have taught you how to use internet search engines, player. Especially if you're going to use it to look up derivative ways to mock me.**

**Player: You're a hero, Carmen. And I'm going to find a way to help you. **

**Carmen: I don't need help, player. I just need some rest. Until next crime….

* * *

**A/N OK, so obviously there will be a sequel to this because I left quite a few unanswered questions. There will be a bit of a break between stories, as the final installment in this triology is very long and I need time to draft it and be certain I can get everything to wrap up satisfactorily before I start releasing chapters. But keep your eyes out, because it's already in the works! It'll be called _Gamemaster_.


End file.
